


Obedience

by Mthaytr



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Collars, D/s, M/M, Pet Play, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mthaytr/pseuds/Mthaytr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It began with a collar, though that was not where it ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> Queenjinxx on Tumblr wanted Roy/Ed pet play, and an anon wanted rimming/doggy style, and I thought those were two great tastes that go great together, so this occurred!
> 
> Just wanted to make sure everybody knows, though, that the training techniques used in this fic are terrible when used with actual dogs. Just don't do it.

It began with a collar, though that was not where it ended.

Or perhaps, more accurately, it began with a call: a call from a particularly difficult supplier in London saying that Hawkeye had better be there for negotiations by the next morning or else the contract was off. This being a week early, and also across the Atlantic, the whole office had gone into a frenzy trying to finish contracts and book plane tickets and do all of the other things that went into a successful business trip.

Hawkeye herself, of course, cruised through the storm with her usual aplomb, but the veneer had finally cracked when the secretary poked her nose in to inform her that her usual dog-sitter wasn’t available on such short notice. Hawkeye’s left eye had twitched, and everyone in the room froze, because her eye twitching had never meant good things before, and they suspected it wasn’t about to start.

Roy had been in quite a good mood that day despite the madness, and seeing that his good friend and boss looked like she was about to go over the edge, had genially offered to take the dog himself.

The next thing he knew, he was at his apartment with an enormous paper Central Market bag full of dog food and other supplies in his arms -- not to mention and a stern lecture under his belt -- staring balefully down a leash to the wide eyes of a puppy. Black Hayate sat in front of him, waiting, then tilted his head to the side like he was asking for something.

“What,” Roy asked it, thinking for the first time that this might not have been the very best idea. He didn’t know anything about dogs. He liked them, sure, but he had always been too busy to actually own one. 

The puppy whined. Roy, not knowing what else to do, knelt down and petted it, which the dog seemed pleased about.

“It’s probably hungry,” came a voice, and Roy jerked, startled, only to sag in relief as he looked up to see Edward Elric, in black jeans and a band t-shirt, lounging on the back of his couch, popping open a Dr. Pepper and watching him with amusement.

It wasn’t an unusual thing, to see the young man there: they had met at a science conference, where Edward had been presenting the new biological-to-mechanical interface system he had invented for use with prosthetic limbs. Roy had been wildly impressed, especially considering how young Ed looked -- seventeen, he had later found out -- being vice president and head of R&D for his company, had naturally approached the blonde. The chemistry between them had been immediate and explosive, and Ed had moaned so prettily when Roy had taken him that the man couldn’t let it be over just like that.

It hadn’t been. It had been six months now, and he had started keeping a case of sodas in the fridge for Edward’s exclusive consumption, of which Edward, perennially broke, gladly partook.

“Good god, Edward,” Roy said, heaving out a breath as his heart recovered from the shock. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Then, he frowned: this wasn’t quite right. “Wait, how did you get into my apartment?”

“Oh, I picked the lock,” Ed said, nonchalant, then took a long sip of his drink. “It’s not so hard.”

Picked the lock? He supposed he would never really get used to having a genius in his life.

“But the alarm,” Mustang responded, weakly. He had an intruder alarm that was supposed to prevent this kind of thing.

This time, Ed didn’t bother disguising how pleased with himself he was.

“Disabled it,” he said with a wide grin, hopping down from the back of the couch, and practically swayed over to Roy, his hips moving _so_ tantalizingly. Roy’s mouth went dry at the sight -- no, he had things to do, he couldn’t just --

And then Edward pressed up against him, and Roy found himself hard in his pants, the dog entirely forgotten.

“So,” he said, hands moving between them to stroke Roy’s increasingly obvious package. “Where’dja get the dog?”

“Nngh,” Roy responded, intelligently, as that hand continued to stroke him. Ed was looking up at him, golden eyes somehow both sultry and amused. He was strong enough not to bend down to kiss Ed, because then it would all be over, but not strong enough to pull away. “He’s not mine. Hawkeye’s. She had to, mm, leave town unexpectedly, so I agreed to -- Edward, you have to stop,” he said, sounding less than convinced. “I have to get the dog set up, and -- _ah,_ ”

“The dog can wait,” Edward said, pausing in his ministrations just briefly to bend down and unclasp the puppy’s collar. The dog took the invitation and trotted off to explore, his fluffy little tail bouncing with every excited step as he went. “See? He’s fine. He’ll go take a look around this place and we’ll fuck, and everybody’ll be happy.”

Roy stared at him for a moment, thinking of his responsibilities, but then Edward squeezed his cock hard, and Roy dropped the leash, tossing the bag to the side -- there was nothing in there that was breakable, anyway -- and pushing Edward to the floor for a hard kiss, right there in the entryway.

“That was a quick change of heart,” Ed chuckled, then gave a pleased sigh as Roy nipped at the juncture of his neck.

“What can I say. You are very persuasive,” Roy purred, suckling at the sensitive spot right under the corner of his lover’s jaw, which made Ed moan in earnest.

“Damn straight,” said Edward.

They fucked on the wooden floor of the entryway, fingers entwined as Roy pounded into the younger man, and when they were done, they lay together, naked and sweaty and perhaps a bit giddy.

“Mm,” Roy finally said, after a few minutes of stunned silence. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Damn straight,” said Edward again, always cheeky, and buried his face into Roy’s neck.

“I should probably get up now, though. It worries me that we haven’t heard from the dog in a while. I should probably get up and see what kind of trouble he’s been getting into.”

“I guess,” Edward grumbled; Roy laughed and rolled over to pick up the fallen leash.

And this is where the collar comes into the picture: Roy, in a fit of madness or genius, took the leash in hand, saw the collar at the end, and rolled back over to hold it up in front of Ed’s neck, to see how it would look.

“You’d look good in a collar,” he had said, half jokingly, but the way Edward’s eyes widened, pupils dilating, as their gazes locked was no joke. He could see Ed’s lips parting, the rise and fall of his chest quickening.

Then, something entirely unexpected:

“I’d be your puppy,” he whispered, like he wasn’t sure how it would be received, and Roy wouldn’t have thought a wave of arousal that intense so soon after orgasm was even possible.

“Oh fuck,” Roy responded, breathless: god, he hadn’t known how much he wanted it until that very moment. “Would you really?”

But their conversation was interrupted by the sound of toenails skittering across the wooden floor, and Roy twisted to see the actual puppy barreling towards them, tail wagging, tongue lolling.

They both scrambled to their feet, not terribly eager to be greeted in this state. As Roy pulled the condom off -- _for convenience,_ Edward had said earlier, pulling a little foil package out of his pants pocket -- and grabbed his boxers with his other hand, Ed went straight for his jeans, grinning and winking at his lover as he zipped himself back up again. He used his boxers to wipe his come up off the floor, finishing just in time to keep puppy from getting into anything he shouldn’t.

But then, Ed had turned to him, balled his come-soaked boxers up in one hand, and stepped over to Roy. With a spark in his eyes, he shoved them down into Roy’s back pocket.

“For later,” he said, and fuck if Roy wasn’t almost ready to go again at the sound of Ed’s voice and the promise in his eyes. Then, before Roy could put his hands on the man’s waist like he wanted to, the blonde pulled away, bending to pick up his shirt and pull it back over his head again. “Much as I’d love to stay, I actually have to get to class,” he said, to which Roy raised an eyebrow. Ed pulled his ponytail holder out of his hair, ran his hands across his head until it looked less like he had just gotten wrecked on the floor, then gathered the hair up and quickly tied the rubber band around it again.

At one point not so long ago, Roy, repeating advice he had heard from a female colleague, had told Edward that rubber bands weren’t good for his hair and that he should look into getting scrunchies. Ed had not taken that suggestion well.

“You’re actually going to class?” Roy asked, surprised and a bit impressed, despite himself.

“Yeah,” Edward said, then added: “I mean, it was a six o’clock class and it’s six-fifteen now, but at least I’m going.” Roy shot him a look, and Edward said: “What? It’s three hours long, and the professor isn’t saying anything I didn’t learn when I was, like, twelve. But the dean called me in for a meeting and told me they were gonna have to kick me out if I do like I did last semester and basically only show up in class for the final. Even if I fucking _ace_ the finals, which I always do. Just, like, on principle or something.”

Roy gave a sigh that was probably more like a laugh, then pulled Ed into his arms.

“Well, good luck,” he said; then, deeper: “We’re not done talking about the collar thing, though,” and Edward turned bright red and babbled out another excuse and fled for the door, leaving Roy once again alone.

The dog sat at his feet, and once more cocked its head to the side. Maybe he was crazy, but it looked like the thing was laughing at him.

“ _What?_ ” Roy asked, almost annoyed by the dog’s attitude. “Don’t judge me. You wear a collar _all_ the time.”

The dog didn’t answer. He didn’t know why he had expected it would.

*

Edward was the sort of person who, if he knew he wanted to do something, would much rather just do it than waste time thinking or talking about it beforehand. So, the first thing he did when he hauled himself up out of bed the next day was pull on a shirt and head out to the nearest pet store to collect some supplies.

Standing in the aisle in front of the collars -- well, _among_ them: collars lined each side of the aisle and were strewn about across the floor and shelves, where assholes left them -- he pulled out his phone and frowned at it.

He should probably text Mustang, ask if he had any ideas. It was still pretty embarrassing to talk about this stuff, but it was also super hot, and he really _should_ involve the man in the whole process _._ Besides, he knew from experience that if he surprised Mustang with this kind of stuff, then all sexiness would be postponed in favor of talking about it right then and there -- even if that meant having the discussion while Edward was naked and chained to the bed, or in any number of compromising positions.

He tapped the message icon and pulled up the conversation with _That Bastard_ , as Roy’s name in Ed’s address book would always read.

_Yo, bastard,_ he typed, biting his cheek. _I’m at the pet store._

Once sent, he stared at the screen, hoping silently. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait: the response flashed up on screen merely seconds after he sent his. Apparently Roy was busily procrastinating on his work -- or else he was as excited about this as Ed was.

_I take it you’re not there to get food for Black Hayate._

_I’m standing in the collar section. What’s your favorite color?_ he asked, being as bold as he dared. Somehow all of this sex stuff still got him a little bit flustered.

_Blue,_ came Roy’s immediate response, and Ed rolled his eyes: it was such a stereotypical businessman’s answer. Then, _But on you, I much prefer red, or perhaps black. You look so striking in them._

_Cheater,_ Edward returned, though his cheeks had pinked a bit. _You know those are myfavorite colors._

_I fail to see how that means I cheated._

Ed glowered at the screen, but tapped out a reply.

_Shut up._ He thought for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. _Do you have any other ideas about stuff I should get?_

This one took a lot longer to reply to, and Ed was about to just take the collar up to the cash register out of impatience when the phone screen flashed to life again, showing Mustang’s response.

_A leash, first of all,_ he said, and fuck if Ed wasn’t getting excited thinking about it, right there in the pet store. _Perhaps a brush. Dog tags._

Well, that was easy enough. He was about to pocket his phone again before another message appeared, below it.

_If you’re not opposed, I would be very interested in playing with one of those bark collars. The ones that deliver an electric shock when the dog gets too loud._

And Edward was suddenly hard, strangling the noise that built as a shock of arousal hit him. 

His immediate, visceral reaction to the thought surprised him: he hadn’t known he had been into that until this very moment. The two of them had played around with some electricity in the past, and though he enjoyed it, he had liked other things they had done better -- floggers, for instance. Rope also.

But for some reason, the thought of one of those bark collars really got him going: the thought of not being allowed to speak at all, of being allowed to communicate only in whines and whimpers…

_You motherfucker,_ he responded, once he had collected himself enough to type out a response. _I had no idea how much I was into that. Goddammit Roy. You’re turning me into a pervert._

He could feel Mustang smirking at his phone as he replied.

_I will gladly take the blame for that,_ he said, and Edward shoved his phone back in his pocket, cheeks pink, and jerked a collar off its hook.

*

Roy’s phone vibrated insistently on his passenger seat as he was driving home from work that Friday night; he glanced over. A text message, from Edward. At the next red light, he risked reading it.

_You’d better not be bringing anybody over tonight._

He sucked in a breath, his heart speeding up.

_Don’t worry_ , was the only reply he managed before the light turned green again. He sent it, then pressed on the gas, his excitement building.

It had been three days since that moment with the collar, naked on Roy’s floor, and he had thought of little else since. He didn’t know why, exactly, the thought of Edward behaving like a dog -- and for _him,_ no less -- turned him on so much, but it did.

Maybe it was because Edward never did what _anybody_ told him to, and had apparently no respect for authority figures -- at least, not outside of the bedroom. But still, they had never played much with that, beyond some ordering him to beg and such: the thought sent a little thrill down his spine to make its home in his gut. But being on the floor, acting like a puppy, would make Ed vulnerable in a way little else could, and he found that he liked this thought very much.

The elevator ride from the bottom of his building to the thirty-first floor was interminably long, and when the door finally opened, he practically bounded down the hallway to unlock his door and throw it open.

“Edward?” he called out, grateful that Black Hayate was finally back with his proper owner. “I’m home.

“In the living room,” Ed responded -- and sure enough, as Roy approached the couch, he began to see what had been hidden behind it. And what he saw was glorious: Edward, on his hands and knees, totally naked except for the red leather collar around his neck -- and, Mustang noted with interest, a dog’s tail with long, silky, golden hair, like a golden retriever’s, extended from his rear. Roy saw no belt or straps, so it had to be attached to a butt plug. Probably an internet purchase. 

Another collection of items sat piled next to Ed, and Roy recognized them instantly: a brush, one of the soft-bristled ones you held in the palm of your hand to use; a nylon leash; then, last but certainly not least bark collar, already out of its packaging and a thumb-sized remote control for the above.

He gave a hissed exhalation, his body irrefutably announcing his interest.

“Hey Edward,” Roy said, rounding the couch and dropping to a knee in front of him. He didn’t want to discuss it first: he was ready to go already, in character and invested. “You been a good boy while I was gone?” he asked, petting his lover’s head and giving him a gentle scratch behind the ears. He didn’t know whether it was his words or the petting that affected the blonde so, but Ed closed his eyes and groaned, leaning in to the touch.

“Yeah,” Ed replied, a little breathlessly. “Been waiting for you to get here.”

As nice of a thought as that was, there was some behavior he needed to correct.

“Mm, don’t talk,” Roy said, stroking Ed’s neck: the man immediately went rigid, turning his head just slightly to the side to allow Roy better access. Roy could see Ed’s knuckles go white on the floor. “Puppies don’t talk, remember?”

With a breathless anticipation, the man picked up the shock collar and brought it up to Edward’s neck; their eyes met, and Roy paused, giving Ed a chance to back out if he wanted. But Ed matched his gaze, resolute, and Roy smiled as he closed the collar around his pet’s neck. He fastened it shut, then flipped the switch on with a thumb, which activated a tiny red light to show it was working. Satisfied with this, Roy brought a caressing hand up to Ed’s cheek.

“Good boy,” he murmured, and Ed groaned, closing his eyes; the way his lover wanted that praise from him, _craved_ it, had Roy rock hard. He wasn’t the only one. Edward’s erection jutted out below him beautifully, unmistakable. But he noted another interesting thing in that moment: the collar didn’t shock Ed for that groan. Apparently the noise had to reach a certain volume before the thing would activate. He smiled, his plan coalescing all in a second. “Now, that groan was sexy,” he said, stroking the vulnerable stretch of Ed’s throat, “but I’m only going to let you get away with it once. From now on, puppy noises only. Whines, whimpers, growls if you feel the need. Nod if you understand.”

Ed nodded vigorously, silently, as the older man’s hand began to stroke further, down his neck and onto the bare skin of his shoulder. 

Mustang noted that Ed’s ears and chest had begun to pink up delightfully, his lips parting to accommodate his breath, just starting to increase its pace. 

He was so beautiful like this.

But as much as Mustang wanted to get right down to the best part -- and oh, he did; Ed’s ass would be nice and ready for him already, he bet -- there was also a game-like element to this that he was finding appealed to him greatly.

He wanted to know which of them would break first.

So, he picked up the leash to put it in his front pocket, then got to his feet, and with one last scratch to the ear, his hand abandoned the warmth of Ed’s body. It was time for this to begin in earnest.

Ed met the sudden absence with a frown and a look of confusion.

“Sorry, boy. I’ll play with you later,” he said, ruffling Ed’s hair. “I have some things I want to do first.”

This, Edward met with a look of annoyance -- for a moment, he looked like he was going to speak aloud, but he remembered himself at the last moment and growled instead. Roy smiled; not a shock collar offense, but growling at your master was bad behavior nonetheless.

“Bad dog,” Roy said gently, giving his pet a light smack across the cheek. Ed gasped -- he liked that, Roy knew from experience -- then let out a short, doglike whine. The accuracy of the impression was actually quite impressive, but Roy was too busy being aroused by the sound to compliment his lover. “Be nice. I told you, I’ll play later.”

Edward scowled, and Roy smirked, but turned for the kitchen. By the sound of it, he guessed Ed was following behind on his hands and knees. Kneepads would be necessary, he decided, for next time. If they did this again. He hoped very much that they did.

So he set about his task, making himself a sandwich slowly and methodically; Edward watched the proceedings with increasing annoyance. The man tried whimpering a few times, to no apparent effect -- Roy was already hard as hell inside his tailored suit pants, but the anticipation excited him greatly. Ed looked relieved when the sandwich appeared finished, but when Roy got out the ingredients to mix his own salad, the scowl returned; in moments, Ed’s impatience finally got the better of him.

“Goddammit, assho--aah!” he said, his complaint turning into a pained cry as his collar delivered a punishment for his transgressions. Roy watched the scene intently, memorized every detail as the man hung his head, his hair falling in sheets to either side of his face. Ed’s chest heaved as he recovered from the sudden shock.

“No talking, remember?” Roy said casually, looking back to his salad as if he hadn’t even been looking at his pet. In truth, he wasn’t actually hungry: but ignoring Ed, watching out of the corner of his eye as the boy became increasingly desperate, kneeling and collared, was strangely erotic to him.

After a minute or so, once he had recovered again, Ed tried whining again, this time adding puppy-dog eyes to the mix to see if they would help his cause: they did not. But he was a smart boy, and once that plan met once again with failure, he changed tack quickly. Roy, focusing on slicing a tomato, was disturbed from his work when he heard a thump from Edward’s side of the kitchen. Unable to help himself, he glanced over to see what his pup was doing; he sucked in air at the sight that greeted him.

There his pup lay, where Roy had left him, except that he had rolled over on his back, knees bent upward and spread out to showcase his flushed erection. His hands, up like paws at his chest, completed the picture of innocent pleading. When the man whined and wriggled a bit on his back, as if asking for a _belly-rub_ , Roy was lost.

He closed his eyes, offered a grateful prayer to anybody listening, and accepted his defeat quite gracefully.

He abandoned his food at the counter to stride over to his pet, to kneel down beside him.

“You want me to rub your belly? Is that it, boy?” Roy asked, and Ed’s cock twitched even as the man’s eyes closed. He whimpered, _clearly_ wanting, and god, this boy --

Best not to think about that too much.

“I can do that for you,” he said. Then, slowly, he reached out a hand to stroke Ed’s stomach, a deliberate motion starting at his sternum, moving down, across his navel, and then further, to his lower abdomen, where he paused. Ed groaned -- a human noise, but Mustang could forgive some small offenses -- as Roy’s hand rested there, even bucked slender hips up into the air a bit, begging to be touched just a bit lower.

Roy hummed his satisfaction, and ignored his pet’s begging. Instead, he did the same thing again, simply stroking from chest down to right at the base of Ed’s cock. With the flat of his hand, Roy smoothed away the tension in hard muscles, reveling in the way Ed kept his eyes pressed shut, some occasional noise working its way past his lips. 

“You’re such a good boy,” he said, continuing the stroking; Ed bucked his hips again, a bead of precum collecting at the tip of his cock as the whine returned. With his unoccupied hand, Roy began to scratch his pet’s head; and as he did, the most remarkable thing began to happen. He saw Ed’s muscles loosen perceptibly, his neck losing its strained tilt to let his head rest languidly against Roy’s hand, even as his shoulders began to sink down, as if in the wake of a sigh.

It was almost like the boy was finally relaxing -- and though Roy knew Edward had to have relaxed at some point in his life, he had certainly never seen it, had hardly even believed it was possible.

If this was what it took for Ed to let his guard down, then Roy would gladly do this every goddamn day.

“You like that?” he practically purred, and Ed made a motion with his head that might have been a nod if he hadn’t been so boneless. “Mmmm. You’re so cute like this,” Roy added; the boy was that,and somehow the very cuteness of it intensified Roy’s already-significant arousal. He wanted very much to despoil that innocence, to make Ed’s adorably blissed-out puppy-face turn wild and wanton under his touch.

This time, the hand that stroked down Ed’s belly didn’t stop there: his fingers dove further, to caress his thighs, perineum, testicles. Another soft whine, this one probably automatic, not intended to communicate anything at all. 

“How does it feel?” he asked, his sadism rising to the surface now; he knew very well what would happen if Ed answered. His hand began to massage Ed’s testicles, his other hand now continuing to stroke his belly, from the base of Ed’s cock to his navel. “You want more?” he asked; the blonde nodded vigorously, his lips all red and wet and delicious-looking. Already, a delicate flush was beginning to work its way across Ed’s cheeks, and Roy watched the change with all the satisfaction of a master artist.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” he asked, silkily, continuing the too-gentle assault on his pet’s testicles. Ed whimpered, giving Roy a faintly accusatory look -- _you were the one who told me not to talk. You’re the one who put this collar on me._ “You don’t get anything in life unless you ask for it, you know,” he added. Ed writhed and whimpered under Roy’s touch, spreading his knees out even wider, begging as best as he could without words.

“Say it, pet. Speak. I give you permission.” He pointedly did not turn the collar off. He just met Ed’s golden stare until the boy couldn’t take it any more; he closed his eyes and said:

“Please, master -- nngh,” he said, his eyes screwing shut against the sudden and intense shock that would be coursing through his neck. “Ah, fuck,” he hissed, and Mustang wasn’t sure if the curse was unintentional or if his pet was trying to prolong his punishment. Both options had their own appeal.

“Such a good boy,” Roy said, rewarding his pet with a single hard stroke down his cock: Ed arched up into the touch, his groan decidedly human, followed by a high-pitched whimper when his master took the hand away. “You always do what your master says. I appreciate that.”

Ed arched up again, bucking into the air and making his pretty tail wag in the process.

“Up, boy,” Mustang said, and Ed scrambled up onto his knees eagerly. He reached into his pocket to pull out the leash, then bent to click it onto the ring on the front of Ed’s collar. “Come,” he added, starting towards the living room, and Ed seemed only too happy to comply.

Once Roy had him on all fours in front of the leather couch, Roy knelt behind him, taking the opportunity to explore and enjoy his young lover’s flawless body.

“God, you’re perfect,” he growled, one hand cupping each of Edward’s ass cheeks, spreading them to get a better look at where the plug entered the boy. “All plugged up and begging for my attention, isn’t that right.”

A whine, longer and higher-pitched than before, like his desperation was increasing. Roy grinned and slid his hands down Ed’s thighs, just for the sheer sensation of it.

“So good for me,” he said, and when his puppy’s cock jerked again, the man gave a rumbled laugh. “You seem to like it when I say that.” He ran a finger lightly up the underside of Ed’s cock, just to see him squirm. “I'm seeing a bit of praise kink here,” he said, and Ed groaned, deep and hard. Just knowing that Edward -- this prodigy, this genius, this whirlwind -- wanted _his_ approval was enough to make Roy feel giddy with the sheer _power_ of it. Roy’s cock strained against his pants, begging, and neither of them were going to be able to stand the tease for much longer. He continued, loving this high even as he needed to give this man everything in the world he wanted. “Mm, that’s really what you’re here for, isn’t it. For me to tell you what a good boy you are.”

The whimper that followed was answer enough, and Roy spread his palms across Edward’s back, sliding them along the smooth skin, marveling at every inch.

Finally, Roy finally moved back to Ed’s ass, to the tail and the plug he wore so beautifully. Slowly, delicately, he worked the metal out of his lover’s body: Ed made these delicious, gaspy noises, and despite the calm of his exterior, on the inside he was about ready to lose his mind.

“Good god, I love those sounds you’re making,” he said, as he worked the last of the plug out, leaving Ed loose and pink and ready. “I want to take you so bad.”

“Please,” Ed whispered, too quietly for the bark collar to do its work; but Roy had a remote, and he used it then, reveling in Ed’s strangled gasp. Struck by a flash of genius, Roy pressed the button and held it down, clenched in his hand, even as he bent over to lick between Ed’s cheeks. His boldness was immediately rewarded.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck,” Ed moaned, tight and breathless and Roy could hear the pain in his voice as well as he could hear how much Ed _loved_ it. The string of curses brought Roy’s blood to a boil. One way or another, this wasn’t going to last much longer. He let go of the button, bringing the shock to an end, and every muscle in his pup’s body sagged as it did.

“Shhh, quiet, there’s a good boy,” he murmured, barely inches away from Ed’s puckered entrance. “Puppy, remember? No words.” And then he went down on Ed again, tongue tracing tantalizing circles around his lover’s entrance, and the boy’s gasp and whine sent shivers through him. He loved doing this, loved the lewdness of the act, loved the way he could play his lover’s body like a harp, plucking each delicate string as he chose, setting that body to shuddering below him.

Then, he began to suckle, and god, the noises Ed made in response, as he arched his back downwards and spread his knees to give Roy better access, were fuel on the man’s fire, and he burned wildly. 

Edward’s keening noises had begun to rise, both in pitch and in volume, and when the shock hit him again, he responded by bending over further, letting his cheek rest on the floor and the press of his shoulders support his body, so one hand could come up to cover his traitorous mouth. The collar worked by vibrations alone, and so the hand over his mouth really wouldn’t help, but Roy enjoyed the sight too much to tell him so.

Seeing Ed presented like that, eyes squeezed shut and desperate to hold in his noises, was too much for the man to ignore. He simply couldn’t wait any longer.

His tongue withdrew to be replaced with a finger, roughly applied -- he took the muffled cry Edward gave to mean the man was approaching that peak. With the slick lubrication left over from the plug and Roy’s tongue, Edward was more than loose enough for Roy to insert a second finger without difficulty. Slowly, he thrust his fingers in and out of Ed’s hole, working him open with delicious, wet, sloppy noises. The tensing of Ed’s muscles presaged orgasm, and right as he was about to cross that edge, Roy pulled away entirely, leaving his lover bereft of sensation, unable to cross that line.

Ed’s eyes flew open, held wide, and the stifled wail he gave at this betrayal was decidedly pained, and loud enough to activate the shock collar, despite his hand. The boy writhed, his free hand clenching and unclenching in the carpet, and Roy soothed Ed as he bit down on his hand out of sheer frustration.

“Good boy, yes, such a good boy,” he murmured, a litany of praise to keep Edward’s head here, to remind him that this was _good,_ that he wanted this, and that no matter how much he hated it in this moment, it would get better. “You can take it, shh, you know you can, because when I finally fuck you, you’re going to lose your mind.”

Again, puppylike whimpering, and he had given up trying to keep himself quiet. Roy liked to think that Ed enjoyed the sound of those noises out of his mouth as much as he did. He waited until Ed had calmed, until his heartbeat slowed down from its gallop back to a more normal pace, before posing the next question.

“You ready for me?” Vigorous, almost frantic nodding, and Roy growled his satisfaction, licked up the curve of his lover’s lower back, then straightened to position the head of his cock at Ed’s entrance. “Mm, god, you’re sexy,” he said, and pushed himself in.

Edward cried out at the first penetration; the hum of the collar made him give a pained groan; Roy paused there, though the waiting was torture, for his lover to adjust to his thickness. After a long moment, silent but for the rasp of their breathing, Ed pulled forward a bit, experimentally, and pushed back. Roy took this as a sign; he bent forward, kissing the ridge of his pet’s shoulder, licking beading sweat off bare skin before pulling his hips back and thrusting in hard.

He wrapped his arms around Ed’s chest, claiming him, then began to fuck the man in earnest: short, relentless jabs right where Ed wanted them. Wrecked sobs came hot, loud in Roy’s ear, and he drank them in, his own noises rumbling and possessive. 

“You’re such a pretty puppy, all fucked out like this,” Roy growled, his own pleasure building. “I love the noises you make when I’m taking you. Whine for me,” he said, and Edward did, though it came out more like a wail -- and _god_ the boy had to have a masochistic streak a mile wide, because when that sound activated his shock collar, he came with a guttural cry all over the carpet. Back arched down and head thrown back, his fists white-knuckled, he jerked forward, again and again, emptying himself for longer than Roy would have thought possible. 

“Fuck, Edward,” Roy said, breathily, as the man’s insides pulsed and clenched around him with the force of that orgasm. “God, you’re perfect. So beautiful,” he said, and it was the truth. “Flip over on your back,” he added, not caring a bit at this point about his carpet or their roles, about anything beyond the heat they shared, that they created together. Roy withdrew to allow Edward to do as requested, and once this was done, he lay there, panting, eyes half-lidded and dark, dark.

Fevered lips pressed to Edward’s, and Roy’s tongue cut wildly through his lover’s mouth as he pressed back inside his slick heat. Ed’s arms enveloped him, clutching at the man above him, and he kissed back like a man possessed until the edge of orgasm overtook Roy, too. He pulled away to gasp, to press their foreheads together and groan as a white-hot burst of pleasure shot through him, and he spilled himself into his lover’s body.

When he finally came back down to earth again, astonished and ecstatic, he kissed his younger lover again before pulling out and rolling off of him, taking a moment to switch the bark collar off, then leaving that arm draped around Ed’s torso. Ed, still panting hard, threw an arm up over his eyes as if to protect them from the light, but it didn’t hide his smile.

“Holy hell,” Edward finally said, with a little astonished laugh that made Roy’s insides squirm in an entirely different way from before. “Motherfucker. We’re a pair of kinky fucks, aren’t we?”

Roy laughed too; it was probably true, and he was in a fantastic mood.

“Most likely,” Roy said, overcoming his post-orgasmic lethargy to sit up properly. “But we’re a pair of kinky fucks who aren’t quite done yet.” He stood up, tucking himself back into his pants: Ed watched him, one eye open. Then, he picked up the dog brush that Ed had left on the floor there, and moved over to sit on the couch. “Come here, boy. Head in my lap.”

Edward did as ordered, coming to kneel beside Roy’s feet, and resting his head on the cushion of the man’s thighs. He looked up questioningly at the older man, and Roy said nothing, just smiled and began, gently, to brush his lover’s hair.

*

“You don't have a dog,” Hawkeye noted, one eyebrow raised as she surveyed the chaos of Roy's living room. Balls and chew-toys of all descriptions lay strewn about the floor, accompanying a spectacularly soiled set of boxer shorts all balled up in the corner by the television, and he really shouldn't let his boss visit unexpectedly.

Still, _she_ had been the one to show up unannounced, and if she saw things she didn't want to see, that was no-one's fault but her own. 

"No, I don't," he agreed with a smirk, and she, wisely, left it at that.

***

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, let me know~! I live on a steady diet of starlight and my readers' comments.


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